The Witching Hour
by Cara de la Luna
Summary: Post-series. How do you act when the lines between good and evil, right and wrong have become blurred by uncertainty? How can you be true to yourself when you're not sure who or what you are anymore? Can you save the one you love from themselves? R&R.
1. Prologue

As Karasuma disappeared behind the doors of the elevator, Amon turned to Robin and grabbed a hold of her arm, pulling the still-shocked witch as he began to run from the falling debris of the collapsing Factory. He swiftly dodged and turned as objects crumbled all around them, instructing Robin to burn away obstacles with her Craft.

They ran through the long hallway leading towards the outer wall of the compound according to Amon's reconnaissance work of Factory's layout, while the barrage of rubble falling on them intensified.

Robin could no longer see beyond her nose due to the heavy dust clouds that covered the air. She closed her eyes, afraid to look and realize that there would be no escape after all, isntead she let Amon guide her as he pulled her behind him, running as fast as he could.

The loud rumbling of the imploding building became deafening just as they hit the end of the hallway, and Amon grabbed Robin by the shoulders to make sure she heard his shouted instructions. It was only then that he realized her eyes were shut tightly as tears pushed their way past the closed lids to stream down her cheeks, her lips moving frantically the whole time. He strained to make out what she was saying above the roar of the falling building. Amon's heart throbbed as he heard her pray through the sobs, her body shaking and hunched;

"_The Lord is my Sheperd_

_Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,  
I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;  
Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me."_

Steeling his resolve, Amon tightened his hands at her shoulders and shook her roughly to bring her out of her stupor. "Robin, this is it, I need you to blast a hole in this wall, and we're out of here."

The young girl looked up and saw his face. The expression she saw told her he had no intention of giving up or of letting them die here. Her eyes focused on the wall he pointed to, aiming the full power of her Craft at a small point in the center of the wall to make sure the blast would create a clear opening. Instead, the blast cut 5 feet deep through the thick cement to reveal still more solid cement.

"The outer walls are doubly reinforced, they are at least 12 feet thick," Amon shouted, "Blast it again"

As the sounds around them became louder and the floor beneath them began to quake in defeat, Robin focused all of her might into the following blast. But she had used such force with her previous attack that the hole this time was only amplified by 3 feet.

Beginning to panic once more, Robin felt herself becoming dizzy from the exertion of her powers. This time Amon grabbed her face, holding her firmly with his hands on her cheeks. "Robin, you can do this, just one more blast, focus all your powers into this one, its our last chance!" He shouted at her, the calm look of confidence in his gaze gave Robin the encouragement she needed. She closed her eyes tightly, summoning all of her strength, summoning strength from those who had died that day, released from the cold, watery prison where they had existed without hope for so long and summoning strength from the man who was risking his life for her once more.

When her eyes opened, the flame that flashed in the emerald depths seemed to extend directly onto the air in front of her, and the next blast of fire that hit the wall obliterated the remaining barrier that separated them from their freedom.

Without a second to spare, Amon scooped Robin into his arms and jumped into the tunnel she had blasted, stealthily taking them the rest of the distance into the light of the outside world.

He did not look back and did not stop running until they were a safe distance away from the collapsing building, just at the edge of the woods that covered the surrounding area. They turned back in time to see the building that had once been STN-J's Factory disappear into a cloud of dust and flying debris.

Amon began to lower Robin back onto her feet, both of them still in shock at what had just happened, of what could have happened had they taken just a few minutes longer inside. Just as Amon was about to turn around and keep walking away from the site, he felt Robin's body begin to slip away from next to his.

"Oi, Robin!" he called as he caught the unconscious girl before she hit the ground. Her face was pale and her skin was covered in a cold sweat, her body and mind having pushed beyond her limits with the recent exertion of her Craft.

Panting, Amon looked down at the frail body for a second, allowing himself the comfort of knowing she was alive and whole before he once again scooped her into his arms and began walking away in the direction where he had hidden a getaway car deep inside the woods.


	2. Haze

_Shapeless figures stirred in the emptiness, swirling and gliding in a cohesive haze. Hollow voices echoed in the dark; frightened whispers both sad and excited._

'_The Eve is alive…'_

_'There is still hope…_

_'She lives… there is hope...'_

_As the amorphous spirits joined together in a chorus, louder voices cried out. _

_'It's too late!' _

'_You cannot undo the damage that has been done!' _

'_The sinners must pay!' _

_The endless shadows broke out in cries of agony, waves of suffering resurfaced from the lost memories of tortured souls. Moans and whimpers were drowned out by hateful shouts, screams rose amongst the mist of bodies, intensifying into a deafening roar._

_As quickly as it had built up, the noise began to die out until single, incoherent voices were recognizable once more. 'The Eve is alive...' 'There is still hope…' 'The sinners must pay…' 'They must pay for what they have done…' 'They will experience the pain they have caused us…' 'No, there can still be peace…' 'We will yet be freed…' 'They must pay'_

_Keeping silent as the souls carried on in their endless ranting, the Methuselah waited...The time would come soon... _

Robin awoke slowly, feeling the sunshine filtering through the thin curtains falling on her closed eyelids. It took a moment for her mind to remember the events of the previous day, and as reality struck her, Robin gasped and sprang to a sitting position on the bed. She didn't recall losing consciousness, the last thing she remembered was standing outside with Amon, watching Factory collapse into the ground.

Amon!!

Where was he?

Her eyes searched her surroundings frantically, but there was no sign of Amon or of any immediate danger. In fact, she found herself lying on a comfortable bed, in a small but cozy room. Just were exactly was she?

Worry over Amon brought her back from her examination of the room. Robin knew they'd made it out of the building together, but she had no idea how she'd gotten here and she needed to find him and make sure he was alright. She began to slide herself off the bed but stopped when her entire body protested at the simple action. Her muscles were sore and her head throbbed, making her feel dizzy and unstable.

As she tried to steady herself on the bed, the door opened and her head snapped up, flames ready to attack, only to find Amon standing in the doorway.

"Amon…" Robin sighed in relief and once again tried unsuccessfully to get up.

"You finally woke up," he said as he entered the room. "You've been asleep for almost two days."

He strode towards the bed, and as he approached the sunlight Robin could make out numerous tiny scratches and scrapes on his face and neck. She thought she noticed a slight limp in his walk.

"Amon, what happened? Where are we?" she said, raising a weakened hand to rub at the sides of her aching head, ignoring the soreness of her muscles.

"Somewhere safe. For now." Was Amon's response.

She looked at him, her eyes questioning, unsatisfied with his answer.

"In one of Nagira's safe houses," he elaborated.

"Oh." She shut her eyes to try to stop the room from spinning. "I feel really dizzy," she said, and once again tried to stand up from the bed, this time managing to sit up on the edge of it.

"You must have overwhelmed your body when you used your craft to break the wall," he said. "You're dehydrated. There's a pitcher of water on the dresser and there's food in the kitchen downstairs. The bathroom is at the end of the hall, you should take a bath"

Robin raised her eyebrows slightly at the last statement.

"You need to check the extent of your injuries," he explained, his expression firm and businesslike. "I don't think it'll be more than severe bruising, but better make sure."

Robin gave a small nod, finally looking down at her torn, filthy pilgrim's dress. She could definitely use a bath.

Amon turned away and headed for the door, but Robin's voice stopped him and he turned around.

"Amon, I'm sorry, I didn't ask if you were OK. Are you hurt? Is there anything I can--"

"_Ie_," he cut her off. "Don't worry about that now," he said, turning to exit the room. "I'll be downstairs," he added over his shoulder as he disappeared beyond the closed door.

Robin stared at his retreating form and sighed softly. She fought the dizziness and clumsily began to stand. Making her way on unsteady feet and hanging on to the furniture to keep her standing, she reached the dresser across the bed and downed an entire glass of water in seconds before she began slowly making her way out of the room.

Robin emerged from her bath almost 2 hours later, having needed a longer than usual soak to soothe her aching muscles and clean herself. Amon had been right, there were no serious injuries, only several painful bruises that dotted the entire length of her body. She'd been shocked when she first glanced at herself in the mirror; her hair was completely gray from dust, her pigtails coming undone from where the leather strips that held them up had unraveled, and there was a nasty purple bruise on her right cheekbone; it looked like someone had punched her in the face. Her long black dress was destroyed, torn at several different places and caked in dust and mud. Thankfully, she found a suitable robe in the dresser of her bedroom that she could wear for the moment.

She found him sitting on a couch facing an unlit fireplace in the small living room. He was staring intently at the space in front of him, with his arms crossed and a slight frown on his face.

She approached him slowly, but before she could make her presence known to him, he spoke; "Any serious injuries?"

"Umm, no, just some bruising," she said rather sheepishly.

He nodded once, and without any preamble, Amon dove into the topic he wanted to discuss. "I spoke with Nagira already. He's unharmed and safe. All the other members of STN-J escaped the building and are safe as well. Solomon will not prosecute them since Zaizen and the Factory engineers were operating against Solomon's rules and are considered traitors."

"Thank goodness," Robin sighed, happy that her friends were unhurt and free.

"Doujima managed to convince the investigators from HQ that Nagira was reeled into the whole thing because he was Karasuma's lover and was worried about her disappearance. Apparently Doujima has more credibility with the higher levels of command than we realized," he explained, feeling troubled that Doujima had managed to keep them all fooled about her identity.

Robin blushed at the thought of Karasuma and Nagira as lovers, thinking that Karasuma would probably not like the alibi.

"As for the two of us," Amon continued, "Nagira is not sure what HQ will decide, they're still searching the Factory rubble. But, assuming they suspect we survived, the most likely scenario is that Solomon will maintain the hunt order against you, since two of the hunters who were sent after you were killed. They will probably realize that I disobeyed my orders to kill you and helped you escape, which makes me a traitor to the organization as far as they're concerned."

"I see," Robin muttered. There was fear in her eyes, though she was trying very hard to hide it. Amon couldn't help but feel the need to reassure her, she looked like a lost little girl right now, reminding him that no matter how mature she acted, she was still just a 15 year old, with no family and no home to go to, running away from certain execution. He extended his arm and placed it on her shoulder, trying not to show how much effort and pain the movement had taken.

"Nothing is for certain yet, Robin. I have no way of saying how Solomon will react, but I want to be prepared for the worst just in case;" he said, hoping the words would calm her. "For now, we have to lay low and see how things unravel. This place is safe, Nagira made sure of that."

"Alright, Amon," she said. Her face brightened up at his word and she graced him with a small and shaky smile.

He nodded and began walking away, heading for the stairs.

"Just try to rest for now, Robin. You're still swaying on your feet from weakness. Try to eat something."

Without another word he climbed up the stairs. Robin waited until she heard the click of his door closing and then plopped down on the couch. She was starting to get hungry, but she felt like she had to sit down for a while; the effort of standing for a few minutes had apparently drained her energy.


	3. Chapter 2: Cleaning Up

Author's Note: Thank you to all the people who read my previous chapters and who were kind enough to add the story to their alerts. A super special thanks to everybody who reviewed, you were most helpful. I didn't think so many people would read and follow this story. I am flattered and nervous about it!

**Chapter 2: Cleaning Up**

Sitting on the floor of her bedroom, back resting against the frame of the bed and knees drawn up to her chest, Robin pondered the latest news from Nagira.

An entire week had passed before he contacted them again, and in that time fear and doubt had taken hold of Robin's mind at the lack of communication. But apparently, despite the delay, this time the news was good. After 7 days of digging through hundreds of tons of rubble, SOLOMON's investigators were calling off the search for Amon and Robin's remains.

SOLOMON's official debriefing report had been something like 'Amon and Robin, along with all of Factory's Orbo research, had been destroyed.' This was also what her former co-workers would be told, and Robin couldn't help the guilt at the thought of her friends grieving for her and Amon. But still, she was glad, for it was necessary in order to keep them safe.

Letting her mind drift away from her former life, the young Witch let out a small sigh and leaned backwards against the bed.

Now that they had some idea of the situation with HQ, the important thing was getting out of Japan. SOLOMON would no doubt follow up on any leads concerning the Orbo research and Robin and Amon's involvement in the incident.

But she knew that their escape would have to wait. Amon was in no condition to travel (or even venture outside) as he was. He tried to hide it, but it was obvious from the the stiffness of his body and the way he walked that his injuries had been more severe than he first estimated. Going to a hospital was obviously out of the question, since SOLOMON would be monitoring all of Tokyo's clinics for any signs of the missing Hunters. Without medical attention, Robin was worried his injuries would only worsen.

The girl hugged her knees closer to herself and buried her face between her arms. As worried as she was for her partner, she couldn't help but be irritated by his stubbornness. Every time she even tried to ask how his injuries were healing he would cut her off and put an end to the topic with one of his nasty glares. He spent most of the day alone in his room, avoiding her looks of concern while scanning on-line news reports for signs of SOLOMON activity. Whether he did this because he didn't want to worry her or because he didn't want to appear weak, she had no clue. '_You still don't trust me enough, do you?'_

Her worry was compounded by the knowledge that her own injuries had not been severe because Amon had shielded her from the falling debris with his own body, covering her with his arms as they made their way out of the Factory. She couldn't help but feel responsible, couldn't help but feel useless.

She sighed once more, stretching one leg to the floor so she could examine an irritating wound just above her knee. The dark purple spot was almost the size of her hand. The edges of it were lined with tiny red capillaries that snaked away from the bruise until they disappeared under her skin. She could see it beginning to heal; a yellow tint was beginning to appear on the surrounding pale skin and the purple colour was becoming a little less intense.

Robin's mind began turning as she examined the wound. She knew that warmth would speed up recovery by making the molecules react faster and cells metabolize quicker, thus hastening the tissue regeneration.

Robin furrowed her eyebrows, wondering if there was a way to channel her craft in a way to focus warmth on a spot without actually igniting a flame. She knew that some Witches could use their Crafts for healing as well as for attack.

SOLOMON taught some of its hunters to use their craft for healing injuries on the field, but usually they focused on quick first aid healing because healing was said to take a lot of energy from a Craft user. And SOLOMON preferred to keep its craft users ready for an attack.

Robin, of course, had never been taught to heal, only to hunt, to hurt, to kill. SOLOMON had intended to use her powers to eliminate as many Witches as possible before they deemed her "too powerful" and used somebody _else's_ powers to eliminate _her_.

Anger and indignation suddenly stirred a desire to not let SOLOMON's wishes bind her even now, a resolve to use her powers for something other than inflicting pain. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on the inner flame that she drew upon to summon her craft. She opened her eyes and a spark illuminated the depths of the green orbs seconds before a small flame danced in front of her face. She stared at the flame for a second, wondering how she would go about accomplishing her new goal.

* * *

Several failed attempts later Robin decided to change her techniques. She felt something inside of her beginning to change as she progressed, coaxing her to concentrate her powers in a new direction. This time, she held out both her hands, palms up, to catch the flame that would emerge. She held the fire steady above her hands, narrowing her eyes as she willed it to shape itself into a small ball.

_What now?_ she thought.

She opened her fingers and began to lower her hands, tentatively bringing the spark towards her leg. She removed her hands and the fireball stood obediently on the air above her leg. Sweat had begun to bead her forehead from the effort of concentrating, but she didn't notice.

"Okay, now how do I…?" she willed the flame to move lower and she felt the warmth on her thigh. Despite the proximity of the flame to her flesh she felt no pain, only warmth, and she closed her eyes once more, willing all the energy of her Craft to heal rather than harm. As the flame drew nearer to her skin, there was still no burn.

Robin realized that her actions were being guided by something similar to instinct, as if her Craft itself was revealing its secrets to her.

Sweat now dripping off her chin, she moved her hands above the little fireball and began to push it down, moving her hands in a circular motion over the bruise. She closed her eyes once more and felt the energy radiating from her being, gentle and loving, moving from her palms to her flame to her leg, willing the healing energy over the wound.

She had never felt her powers in such a way. Instead of bringing her senses to a state of hyper-alertness, ready to attack and defend, the flame against her hands was calming, soothing. Her entire body had relaxed and she felt oddly_ safe_, like she was not alone in the room anymore.

Slowly surfacing from the state of serenity she had created, she opened her eyes and removed her hands, dissolving the small flame in the air. A smile brightened her face.

The bruise was gone.

* * *

Amon sat on the edge of the bed, forearms resting on his knees. The room was dimly lit from the single table lamp sitting on the opposite corner. He hadn't moved for a while, pondering what his brother had said to him earlier that day over the phone. If SOLOMON was truly giving up their search and considered them dead, then he and Robin could just disappear to a secluded location and escape the danger of being recognized. Somehow that seemed too easy.

Amon knew the Organization would not take any chances, especially if they were aware of the extent of Robin's powers. The released statement could have been an attempt to trick Amon into a false sense of security while they continued their search for them.

How much did SOLOMON have to go on? What information did they find amongst the ruins of the STN-J's Factory?

As far as he knew, the deciphered tape of Toudou's testimony had only been seen by Robin, Karasuma, Zaizen, the Factory's lead engineer, and himself. Two of those people were dead, and he knew Karasuma would never betray Robin for the sake of the organization. His second in command had become extremely attached to the young Witch and he knew she was loyal above all things.

However, there was always a possibility that another copy of the tape existed somewhere. He didn't know where or how Zaizen had gotten a hold of the message. Apparently the former head of STN-J had based all of his Orbo research on fragments of Toudou's data left scattered in Japan and had only managed to obtain the tape shortly before the Factory incident.

It had been apparent in Zaizen's reaction to Toudou's claims on the origins of Witches that he had no idea of the actual contents of the video. If SOLOMON had known about the existence of the tape, the Organization would have certainly made sure that every single copy of the video and its contents were destroyed, and anyone who knew about it would have been silenced, as Toudou had been.

Then there was Juliano. The man knew everything and yet had kept quiet about it for 15 years. He had betrayed the Organization to give his granddaughter a chance. Yet Amon was not sure whether the man could be counted on as an ally or should be considered an enemy. He would rather exclude the man from the list in both categories. Better to just take the chance he had given them and leave it at that.

Amon's hands clenched into fists as his mind wandered. He couldn't bear the thought of Robin falling into the hands of Hunters. He hadn't been able to stand the idea of Robin on the run all by herself. He couldn't trust anybody else with her life. He needed to be there to make sure she was safe, and he was aware that he was doing it for himself as much as for Robin's sake.

When had he become so attached to this girl?

His musings were abruptly cut short by the faint sound of someone knocking timidly on his door.

He was startled by the sound; Robin had mostly given him his space and left him alone since the first day she awoke. Suddenly worried that something was wrong, he quickly responded, "Come in."

The door was cracked open and Robin poked her head inside, hesitating to step into the room.

"Were you asleep?" she asked quietly, her gaze fixed on the floor, reluctant to meet his own.

"No. What is it, Robin?"

She slowly lifted her eyes from the floor to meet his gaze, something akin to excitement was shining on those emerald depths. Amon was taken aback by that look.

"I wanted to show you something," she said, finally opening the door just far enough to slide her body inside.

Even in the dim light of his room he could see her face and the collar of her shirt moist from sweat. Suddenly Amon felt his heart rate increase, but his facial expression and body posture remained unchanged as the girl slowly approached his bed. She stopped a few feet from him. Amon did not move. "What is it?"

Robin didn't look around the room; her eyes were fixed on Amon. It had taken all her courage to venture inside, but she was determined to help Amon with his injuries, even if he was reluctant to accept her help. It was the least she could do.

Now that she had confronted him, however, she was unsure how to proceed. The scrutinizing look in his eyes and his displeasure at her intrusion had robbed Robin of her initial bravado. She had no idea how to go about explaining her new found healing powers, since she herself barely understood them. She had spent only moments staring in amazement at her healed leg before she resolutely walked out of her room toward Amon's, her excitement overriding her cautious nature and preventing her from planning out a course of action beyond making it past his doorstep.

She felt her nerves flare as he stared her down, his look impassive and unsettling. Finding herself at a loss for words, Robin opted for showing him rather than trying to explain. Without considering any propriety, she lifted her long skirt just above her knee to show him a perfectly unblemished, slender leg.

"Look!" she said enthusiastically, a small smile on her lips as she pointed to the area above her knee.

Now Amon was the one at a complete loss for words, utterly confused by Robin's actions. He had to make an effort to maintain his composure in the situation. Robin had just walked into his bedroom in the middle of the night, said she wanted to show him something with an excited look on her face, and now she had lifted her long skirt without a hint of modesty to reveal a smooth, pale leg that seemed soft and perfectly shaped even in the dimness of his room.

He mentally shook himself out of his stupor and tried not to stare, lifting his questioning gaze to hers once more. "What are you doing, Robin?"

"There used to be a really big bruise there earlier today. It's gone. I used my Craft to heal it," she said with a radiant look on her face.

Amon was thoroughly confused. He hadn't known Robin was a healer. In fact, he knew she wasn't. And learning to heal was extremely difficult and rare; Craft users could require years of training before they managed to use healing abilities.

"Are you sure about it?" he asked, giving her a sceptical look before returning his gaze to her delicate leg (against his better judgement) to examine the area. There were no visible signs of any recovering injury. "Maybe you just mistook it for a bruise somewhere else on your body," he said dryly.

Robin sighed and let go of the fabric she was holding, covering herself. She should have known Amon would not believe her. He would not be convinced of anything until he had hard proof of the fact.

"Give me your hand," she said as she closed the distance between them and knelt in front of him on the floor.

Amon was frozen in place. What the hell was she doing? Too stunned to do anything, he simply let her take his left hand in her own and she looked at it carefully.

She had noticed the prominent bruise on the back his hand before; it looked as if a brick had fallen on his hand and crushed it against the floor. She ran her fingers over his knuckles and Amon held his breath at the simple caress. Her brows knit together as she turned his hand one way and the other in her examination. From the way he moved it she didn't think any bones were broken, but quite obviously it hurt him to move it.

"Robin, what…" he saw her close her eyes, one hand still holding his suspended in the space between them while the other hovered in the air just above the injury. He saw the small flame forming below her raised hand. His immediate instinct was to pull away from her, but his body remained still, transfixed by her unusual actions. Robin lowered her hand, guiding the swirling flame to rest right above Amon's hand, which she still held in her own.

Amon gaped. Instead of the burning pain he had expected, he immediately felt the pleasant warmth that radiated from Robin. The flame took the form of a small fireball, standing in place as she kept her eyes closed and her brows furrowed in concentration. Her palm moved in small circular motions above him, the small fireball floating obediently where her hands moved.

Amon could do nothing more than stare down at her face as she worked. Robin was glowing, her features relaxed despite the intensity of her concentration. The strange aura that radiated from her since the moment she stepped into his room now spread upwards from his hand to his arm, pleasant and soothing. This warmth that emanated from her was not natural; it made him feel suddenly serene and secure, things Amon hadn't felt in a very long time.

His brain told him he should just pull away, tell her to leave, move his eyes off of her small lips, pursed as they were in her focused state, and erase the sudden desire he felt to brush his fingers against them. But he couldn't. He was under her spell. Whatever it was she was doing to him now was drowning the rational voices in his head that shouted for him to stop her and leave.

The pleasant sensation on his hand suddenly stopped and Amon was torn out of his conflicted thoughts as Robin opened her eyes and removed her hands from his, eliminating the small fireball. She looked at his hand and then up at his face, smiling.

Amon forced his eyes to part with hers and looked at his hand. The bruise was gone. The pain he felt when he moved his fingers was replaced by the pleasant feeling of warmth and a mild tingling sensation. He raised his palm to his face, clenching and unclenching his fist. His emotions for once reflected partially on his face as he stared at his hand in disbelief. "How did you…?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure," she answered quickly, making Amon turn his confused gaze back towards Robin. "I was never taught to use my powers for healing. It was very strange, as if something in me already knew how to do it, and I just followed along," she said, now staring at her own hands, obviously confused herself at this new development.

Amon wasn't sure what to say. Should he be glad about the fact that she could control a new aspect of her Craft? Or be worried that such a difficult, rare ability had developed within Robin in one day with no guidance from another healer? A frown formed on his forehead at the implications of Robin's powers growing so quickly.

Robin brought him back to reality once more as she placed her hand gently over his healed one, glancing up at him with a pleading look in her eyes, still kneeling in front of him. "Amon, please let me heal your other injuries, I know you're in pain."

His face softened slightly at her request. "Robin, I don't think that is such a good idea."

"Please, Amon. You've done so much for me. Let me at least do this for you." He looked at her for some time, unable to break her gaze and unable to say no to her innocent request.

He didn't say anything, he simply nodded. Robin smiled at him and stood up while he moved slowly to rest in the middle of the bed.

"I think you should take your shirt off. I don't want to set your clothes on fire," she said as she sat on the edge where he had previously been sitting.

Amon hesitated but decided she was right and he began to undo the buttons on his shirt.

Robin looked away, suddenly blushing. Apparently she was just coming to the realization that she was alone with a man, in his dim lit room, sitting on his bed and about to see his upper body naked. Not to mention that said man was Amon, her ex-partner, who was ten years her senior and the only man who could send her heart racing with a single look.

"Maybe you should save your energy for now," Amon said, removing his fingers from the buttons. "You blacked out from overusing your powers just a few days ago and--"

"No, Amon, I'm fine. Really, please continue," Robin replied hurriedly. She wouldn't let her shyness get in the way now.

Amon waited a moment as she turned away and finished removing his shirt. When she heard the rustling of fabric stop, she turned around to look at him once more.

All feelings of shyness were forgotten the moment her gaze fell on him. She gasped and a small hand flew to cover her mouth, her eyes widened at the sight before her.

"Oh, Amon," she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion.

Several thick purple lines marked his ribcage on either side, a clear sign of the broken ribs hiding beneath the skin. His left shoulder blade held at an odd angle, dislocated; the bluish discoloration that run from his shoulder to the centre of his back was covered with the fine red lines left by broken capillaries and veins. Several red welts run across his entire back, as if someone had taken a rusty nail and slashed mercilessly at him. Bruises big and small marked the pale skin on his arms and shoulders, which had borne the brunt of the onslaught of falling debris as he had covered both of them on their way out of the building.

Robin felt the powerful weight of guilt settle on her chest once more. He had been walking around for over a week in this condition and had not complained once. He would not have gotten hurt if it wasn't for her, for helping her, and he had kept silent about it to spare her the remorse that was eating at her now. He had masked his pain well in front of her, and now she realized why it was that he spent most of the day in his room. It hurt too much to move.

Amon said nothing, as always, watching as her eyes took in his injuries, the physical pain of them reflected clearly on her trembling green gaze. He just looked at her silently before turning his head away from her, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze. Robin fought against the tears threatening to spill from her eyes and forced her face into an expressionless mask, much like the one Amon wore all the time, setting her feelings aside for later, after she'd accomplished what she'd set out to do.

With steeled determination, she raised both her hands and ignited her flame on her palms before pushing the gentle warmth towards the large swelling on his shoulder. Her hands circled slowly over his muscles, the amber light from her flame reflecting off his skin and illuminating the taught lines of his musculature. The dislocated shoulder slowly began to mend itself, rising from its bent position to its original state, the torn tissue gradually forming once more as the purple colour disappeared off his skin.

Amon's mind felt clouded in the pleasant haze, unable to think of anything but the wonderful sensation of Robin's healing Craft seeping through his skin. He could feel the intoxicating warmth spreading across his body from her hands. Immediately, Robin's ministrations soothed the pain as they moved along, his torn muscles relaxed beneath the path her hands had travelled.

Amon let out a soft sigh as he closed his eyes, letting his guard down completely around another person for the first time in a long while.

He realized now that he trusted her completely. He could not remember the last person who lowered his defences like Robin was doing now, like she had been doing for some time.

When she had taken care of his shoulder blade, she worked her way slowly through the length of his back, giving greater attention to the most prominent injuries and leaving the smaller bruises till the end. When she was satisfied with the look of things on his back she moved her hands around to his chest, and then lower over his abdomen, tracing the lines of his broken ribs one by one. These somehow proved more difficult; they had sunk deep into his thoracic cage, threatening to tear at muscles and ligaments, so her energy had to focus more intently to repair the damage that had been done by days of neglect and continued movement.

Amon felt her hands move from his chest down to his ribcage. Almost immediately he felt his breathing become easier. It no longer hurt every time he inhaled. He felt the heat intensify as she strengthened the focus of her power to trace the line of each broken rib. He was unaware of how much time had gone by since she'd started, his drowsy mind making it harder as it refused to surface of the pleasant depths of relief.

She was moving over the sole remaining fracture when he became aware of her strained breathing. Alarmed, Amon opened his eyes and turned to find Robin's face drenched in sweat. Her hands shook slightly as she moved them over his stomach and she was almost gasping for breath.

"Oi, Robin!"

"I'm almost done." She said firmly, her brows knit closely together, but he was already trying to sit up. She pushed him back gently with one hand while the other continued its task. Amon began to protest again but he felt the heat increasing once more.

Her hand stilled over his lowest rib and the glow beneath her palm intensified as she made one last effort to mend the injury.

And then she was done. The light extinguished itself and Robin was left panting, swaying slightly. Her hands shook on her lap while she tried to collect herself.

Amon sat up and grabbed one of her shoulders to steady her.

"See? I'm all done," she said in between laboured breaths.

Amon looked down at his body for a second. Nothing but small fading bruises was left visible on his abdomen. "Robin, I…" He struggled to absorb the reality of his state. The pain was gone, his muscles moved freely without protest and his breathing was effortless. How in the world had she managed to do that?

This seemed beyond impossible, and yet Robin had managed to summon the ability and the power to heal him all by herself in one night. He looked at her sleepy eyes, half closed already.

"Thank you," he whispered earnestly, two words that were usually hard for him to say escaped his lips easily in the intimate situation.

"You're welcome," she murmured almost inaudibly before her eyes closed and her body slumped forward over his.

"Robin. Oi, Robin!" Amon was taken aback by her body suddenly lying partially over his.

He moved to the side and pulled the rest of her body to lie comfortably on the bed, his fingers then moving to pull a strand of hair away from her sweaty face. She had overdone it again and he had been too distracted to notice.

Amon couldn't help but feel utterly grateful as he looked at her tired yet peaceful expression. Her willingness to sacrifice herself to help others was part of what had initially drawn him to her, he realized, and a small smile tugged at the edges of his lips. This answered his earlier question, at least in part; it was hard not to get attached to someone like Robin, even for someone as cynical and apathetic as Amon, her honesty and concern were hard to ignore.

The smile faded off his face, once again wondering what such an incredible development in her Craft's ability would mean for them in the future. He had made a promise he was loath to keep, but if Robin could master something as complicated as healing in a day, what other powers could she unwittingly obtain in just as short a time?

Amon didn't want to think about it just yet, choosing instead to focus on the immediate situation; they were now able to leave Japan without the hindrances of his injuries. Allowing himself the luxury of admiring the sight of Robin's sleeping form laying casually next to him for just another moment, he lifted his hand to gently caress her soft cheek. "Thank you," he whispered once more before reluctantly rising from the bed, gathering Robin in his arms and heading for her bedroom.

* * *

"She learned to heal? In one day? Well, she's full of surprises, I gotta give her that," Nagira commented casually as he took a cigarette out of the pack.

"You don't seem to think much of this. Do you realize how outstanding of an accomplishment that is? And by herself, too. Most Craft users need years of training under experienced instructors to even begin developing healing abilities," Amon explained to his brother.

Nagira had decided to pay a visit to the house where he had arranged for Amon and Robin to stay after an unexpected call from Amon the previous night. He had been taken aback by Amon's appearance, especially after the bloody mess his poor little brother had been when he first brought them here.

Sitting on the large living room couch across from Amon, the lawyer lighted and took a long, leisurely drag from his smoke. "Well, yeah, but this isn't _any_ Craft user we're talking about. This is Robin. Her potential was great to begin with and with the Arcanum in her possession, it seems reasonable that she would be able to figure out how to use another aspect of her powers without help." He let out a big puff of smoke, looking far too relaxed in Amon's opinion. "And besides, from what you just told me, she seems to have it all under control, it's not like she's lashing out with her powers or anything."

Maybe his older brother had a point; Robin's control over her Craft was probably what had enabled her to figure out how to use healing in the first place.

"Where is Robin now, anyway?" Nagira enquired.

"She's taking a bath upstairs."

"I see. Well, in any case," Nagira continued, "now that you're not a total cripple anymore we can start talking about getting you out of here. I've been getting in touch with contacts in different places and researching areas that are relatively free of SOLOMON influence. I've got a few options for you to choose from, and I'm already taking care of travel documents and the like.."

"That was quick," Amon commented, mildly surprised that Nagira had managed to be so productive in such a short time.

"I know, isn't your big brother something else?"

Amon rolled his eyes and rose to tell Robin to come downstairs.

Half an hour later, they heard Robin coming down the stairs. Apparently, she had decided to finish her bath before deciding to find out what was so important that Amon had to disturb her in the tub.

Upon entering the living room her eyes widened in surprise. "Nagira!" she breathed in excitement, smiling broadly at the man now sitting on the arm rest of the couch across from Amon. Nagira returned her smile, equally happy to see her, and he opened her arms wide for her as she ran straight to him and embraced him.

"I'm glad you're OK too, kid," he said, returning her hug and letting his own relief out, still incredulous that both Robin and his brother were in one piece.

Robin pulled away, though Nagira still held on to her upper arms, his face came to level with hers as he examined her. "Jeez, you look terrible," he said, raising an eyebrow at the fading bruise that was still visible over her eye and the exhaustion obvious on her face.

Robin simply shrugged, her smile still in place. "It could have been worse," she said, unaware that he was referring to her overexertion of her powers rather than the injuries she had gotten during the Factory incident.

Amon cleared his throat, bringing his charge and brother back from their emotional reunion. "Nagira has been preparing our travel documents and checking out possible destinations. The documents should be ready in a couple of days, we leave at the end of the week," Amon said, his voice business-like and his face expressionless.

Robin's brows knit in concern. "So soon?" she whispered, suddenly afraid of what would happen to them after they'd left Japan. Even though SOLOMON was hunting for them here, Amon and Nagira's connections in the country had given her a small sense of security, while their resources would be scarcer outside the country.

"The sooner the better," Nagira piped in, breaking the serious mood with a wide grin. "It's best to beat SOLOMON out of the country rather than have them pick up on your trail and have to try and lose them then. We don't know just how SOLOMON is progressing with their investigation, but we know that they're not gonna sit still after a major illegal project like Orbo has been discovered and two of their Hunters have disappeared without a trace."

A moment of silent followed. Robin knew they were right, and in her heart she knew it was the best thing to do, but their escape made the reality of her life as a fugitive Witch clear and unavoidable. There would be no return from here, once they left Japan, it wouldn't be only her but Amon as well would become SOLOMON's prey.

Nagira laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder, shaking her slightly. "I brought you all the stuff you left at my office," he said cheerfully, pointing at the bags he'd set down near the door. "I even got Hana-chan to get some clothes for you since you didn't have much to begin with. It's mostly stuff out of her own closet. I think she was happy that me and my underage mistress were patching things up. She's been nagging me to make up with you and bring you back to the office ever since you left," he said, giving Robin a wink and smiling internally at the clear alarm in Amon's face.

Though Robin was too concerned with her own thoughts to appreciate his attempt at humour, she moved to rifle through the luggage. Inside were the clothes Hana-san had sent, a couple of her old dresses, her black sleeping shirt, and the biker's outfit Nagira had given her for work, as well as a few personal belongings she'd taken with her into hiding after the attack on Touko's apartment.

The attack on Touko's apartment... It all seemed like a lifetime ago, though it had barely been a month and a half.

"I hope it all fits," she heard Nagira say. "Hana-chan is bigger than you. Though I probably shouldn't have mentioned _that _to her," he added, a cowed look on his face as he recalled the furious look his secretary had given him at the comment.

"I'm sure it will be fine, Nagira, thank you," Robin said, managing a weak smile for his sake.

Checking his watch, Nagira turned to Amon, "I should get going. I'm meeting someone tonight about some of the stuff you asked for, better not keep him waiting."

Amon nodded and Nagira said his goodbyes to Robin, giving her a quick hug before exiting through the door, leaving Robin to wonder what Amon had asked for.

Nagira came back a few days later with everything ready for Robin and Amon's trip. He took out a large thick brown envelope, much like the ones Robin delivered for him across Tokyo, she noted, and slid it on the coffee table in Amon's direction.

"I already checked it myself but better make sure nothing's missing" Nagira said as he lit up a cigarette.

Amon nodded and emptied the contents of the envelope onto the table. Robin's eyes widened in surprise. Driver's licences, citizenship cards, passports and other ID documents containing pictures of Amon and Robin but with a vast array of aliases lined the table. The documents were for the European Union, which would make sense since that would enable them to travel with ease, but they were on the run from a Europe-based Organization, after all.

"We're going to Europe?" she said with apprehension, her feelings clear in her face.

"England," Amon corrected, "those documents are just a precaution in case we need to make a hasty exit."

"I see..." Robin trailed off as she examined the name on one of her fake passport with mild interest. "Then, when do we leave?" she asked, her voice sounded confident despite the fear she felt at the coming answer.

"Tomorrow."

Too conflicted to stick around and hear the strategic details of their escape, Robin excused herself and left Amon and Nagira to talk. She felt oddly numb, too overwhelmed with the recent developments in her life to feel anything distinct about them. Hoping the warm waters would help clear her head, Robin headed for the sanctuary of the bathtub.

* * *

Robin sat unable to sleep on her bed, her light still on despite it being past midnight already. Though contemplating what tomorrow would bring had proved impossible even with the clarity of mind her bath usually afforded her, sleep still eluded her in her numbed state. A knock on the door rattled Robin out of her trance, and before she could answer it the door cracked open and Nagira's grinning face appeared in Robin's room.

"Hey kid, I saw your light still on and thought you could use some company."

Nagira entered the room upon seeing her welcoming smile and walked to sit on the edge of her bed, holding something hidden behind his back.

A curious raised eyebrow from Robin prompted a wider grin from the older man. "It's past 12 p.m., today is officially your moving day," he said as he produced a takeout box of soba noodles from behind him.

Robin's eyes widened at the gift, her mind suddenly transported back to the day when she had first realized Nagira was secretly helping Witches and Seeds escape. He had asked her to bring soba noodles for dinner that night, explaining that it was customary to eat them on a moving day, and they had sat in silence as they ate and she thought of the bright-eyed little girl who in another time could have been her prey. The remorse of her life with SOLOMON gnawed at her then, and the fear of her life running from the Organization now seemed like justified payback for the sins she had committed as a Hunter. The irony of her reversed roles did not escape her; in a matter of months she had gone from being one of God's children to being the Devil's child, from Hunter to Hunted, from bringer to receiver of noodles.

The emotions that she had kept dammed inside herself found themselves suddenly free, and with a watery sob the tears she had been unable to shed came rushing down her face.

Stunned by her unexpected reaction, Robin could do nothing but stare down at the box of noodles she now held in her hands, unaware even of Nagira's presence until she felt his arms surrounding her gently.

"It's OK, Robin-chan, just let it out," he encouraged, rubbing her back softly. But Robin's emotional break down did not last long. Her sobs quickly subsided and she pulled slowly away from him, though her expression was far less troubled now that she had allowed herself some weakness.

"Thank you, Nagira," she whispered back, truly grateful for all he had done for her.

"No problem, kid. Chicks like sensitive men, you know? It's good practice," he said with a rueful smile.

They ate in silence as Robin's tears dried away and she collected herself. Once they were finished, Nagira spotted a question is Robin's green eyes.

"What is it?" he asked as she opened her mouth to speak but closed it again in reluctance.

"Nagira, do you think this is the right thing to do? Making Amon come with me? There may still be time for him to go back."

"Do you really think Amon would agree to do that?" Nagira answered her with a reassuring smile, "and besides, you're not "making" him do anything he hasn't agreed to. You can't make Amon do anything against his will, trust me, I've tried."

Robin looked down to her hands held clenched on her lap. She couldn't help but feel like she was condemning Amon to a fate that was not his.

"I am a Witch, Nagira. And not just an ordinary Witch. SOLOMON may have a right in wanting to eliminate me. I...my existence itself, what I am, it may be a sin..." she trailed off, thinking of Toudou's experiment and the way she had been conceived.

Nagira's hand on hers made Robin turn to face him once more. "Amon told me about your father. I know how you came into the world and what that priest told you."

Robin's eyes widened and her hand tried to pull away from his in shame, but Nagira held her firm.

"Robin, regardless of how you were created or what that man's intentions were, you are not any less human than me, or Amon, or anyone else for that matter. You are you. You are not responsible for the actions of others, nor are you guilty because of something you had no choice in."

Robin felt the threatening sting of tears in her eyes again, but she continued to listen to Nagira intently.

"How you were born or who you were born from does not determine who you are, or what you are. You are a Witch, that may be true, but you are also a human." Nagira smiled gently then, his voice still serious, "There are people who are born without 'human', yet they become monsters when they grow up, stealing, killing, taking advantage of innocent people. Your genes are not what makes you human, Robin. What determines who you are are the decisions you make in life. You are confronted with a lot right now; you have the choice to give up, to believe that you are not human because of your genetics, or to take control of the powers you have been given and continue to live your life."

Robin's tears were threatening to spill from her eyes, but she resolutely blinked them away, smiling back at Nagira as best she could. Something changed in her expression after hearing his words. Finding truth in them, she decided for now to believe in Nagira's words as much as he seemed to believe in her.

"How did you become so wise?" she asked with mirth shinning in her eyes, breaking the solemnity of the atmosphere.

"All I ever learned in life I learned from watching TV," he joked, making Robin's smile deepen.

But her smile did not last long. Her face fell once more and she pulled her hands away from Nagira's.

"Amon hates Witches," she said.

" 'Hate' is a strong word. I wouldn't say he _hates_ Witches, he just doesn't understand them," Nagira reassured, "besides, I don't even think that's completely true, anymore," he said, giving Robin a meaningful look.

"You could say Amon is just like you right now," Robin looked shocked at his words, "he has changed his views about SOLOMON and wants to look beyond what he has come to believe so far. So it's not like he's being completely selfless by staying with you, you know. He has things he wants to find out through you. In a way, you're doing _him_ a favour" Nagira added with a wink, making Robin's smile return to her face.

She shook her head at him, smile still in place. "You may be a bit too wise, Nagira."

The older man gave a hearty laugh at that as their conversation turned away from serious topics.

Leaning against the wall, Amon moved to walk away from the place where he'd been standing beside the door Nagira had left ajar when he entered Robin's room. Not wanting to let them know he'd listened to their conversation and reluctant to interrupt them, Amon moved silently towards his room and his awaiting bed. Deciding that saying anything to Robin about their trip was now unnecessary, the ex-Hunter left to prepare for their departure.


	4. Reverie

Bristol, England

3 months later

Amon had always been a light sleeper. Having to always be in a state of alert, his unconscious mind seemed to scan for noise and movement even in its sleep. The soft shuffling sounds coming from within the apartment did not go unnoticed.

He sat up in bed, reaching for the gun in his night table drawer with practised stealth, throwing a quick glance at the alarm clock almost as an afterthought.

3: 17 a.m.

He opened the door a crack, just enough to peer out into the darkened hallway, eyes immediately scanning the empty space.

Robin's bedroom door was open across from his, her bed empty and perfectly made.

His pulse quickened, a feeling of unease growing in his chest.

Exiting his room, he noticed the soft light coming from the living room, shifting slightly to produce shadows on the hallway floor.

Quickening his step, finger firmly placed on the trigger of his gun, Amon rounded the corner into the living room to find that the source of the light was the fireplace burning with a small flame. Across from it was Robin, curled up in an aged recliner chair, legs pressed tightly against her chest, staring out the window at the swaying branches of trees in the garden of their small rented apartment.

"Robin?" he called. Letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in, he lowered his gun and approached her slowly. The relief he'd felt when he saw her there unharmed vanished seconds later when she turned to face him and he saw her dazed expression and the fresh tears staining her cheeks.

"Amon. I didn't mean to wake you." she said apologetically, a weak smile hanging from her lips. The look in her eyes was glazed and distant, a contrast to the usual warmth present there.

"What are you doing up?" he asked, setting his gun down on a coffee table as he continued to make his way towards her, a sudden feeling of dread rooting itself firmly in his gut.

She turned her face back to the window, away from him, and simply stared. Amon was beginning to think she wasn't going to answer him when she finally spoke again. "I couldn't sleep," she murmured softly, almost as if she was talking to herself.

"Why not?" his slow advance finally led him to her, and he stood somewhat menacingly in front of her, trying to turn her attention back to him as she continued to stare out the window into the night. There were was no moon out tonight, and the town's few and far between lamp posts did little to illuminate the outside world.

"I had a bad dream" she whispered again, even softer than before, so that Amon had to strain to hear her voice.

Amon was at a loss, taken aback by her strange behavior. She seemed hypnotized by whatever it was she was looking at, though there was nothing to be seen outside. The tears on her cheeks were beginning to dry away, as if she'd forgotten what it was that had prompted them, or as if she'd never noticed she' been crying at all.

Amon's usual reaction to Robin being up in the odd hours would have been to immediately send her back to bed, though it did not happen very often. In the three months they'd spent travelling together, he had only awakened to her being up during the night in two occasions. If she left her bed during the night she was always quiet and careful not to wake him, knowing that her making any noise in the middle of the night would immediately awaken the trained soldier in him, and that once alert, his mind would most likely not be going back to sleep. Both times she had quickly apologized for waking him and gone back to her room as soon as she had had the midnight snack that had led her from her bed. She had seemed almost embarrassed at being caught. The girl sitting in front of him now seemed barely aware of his presence.

"What were you dreaming about?" he asked as he leaned back against the window, trying to get a better view of her face from the direction she was facing.

She didn't answer him. He wondered if she'd heard him at all. The only sound in the small living room was the gentle pop and crackle of the single burning log in the fire place.

"Do you remember that doctor we hunted?" she asked suddenly, firmly, surprising Amon with the change in her tone and the out-of-nowhere question.

"He was a nice man," she said, not waiting for Amon to reply to her question, "he was very nice to me when I went to see him for my cold." Amon remembered Robin telling him that he'd met that witch only days before, remembered the inner-conflict her eyes had expressed at the time. Why would she bring him up now?

"He didn't even know he was a witch," Robin continued, all the while staring past Amon to a spot outside the window. Her voice softened slightly when she spoke next, prompted by her memories of their encounter. "When he saw me use my craft, he asked me if there were others like us out there. People with powers who shouldn't have been. He didn't seem to understand his own craft very well. All he knew was that he was able to give life by taking it from others. He said the people he'd killed didn't deserve to live...and I told him that wasn't his choice to make." The last words were spoken softly, sadly.

Amon cocked his head towards her, trying to face her directly by standing between the window and herself. He didn't know what to say to her, and realized that she most likely didn't expect him to answer. She was talking more to herself than to him, recollecting a time when she'd held the approval of SOLOMON and the Church to punish others for their sins.

His efforts to discern the expression on her face were stopped when she turned to look directly at him. Her face was still distant and withdrawn, and she seemed not to notice or care about the bewildered expression in Amon's.

"Do you believe in destiny?" she asked him, but once again didn't seem to be looking for an answer. Her eyes moved to some unspecified spot on the floor behind Amon. "He asked me...if I was going to fulfill _my _destiny too..." The tears brimmed in her eyes, dancing momentarily with the reflection of the fireplace, finally slipping past long lashes and rolling quietly, unnoticed, down her cheeks.

As she trailed off, Amon moved towards her, reaching out an uncertain arm to place on her shoulders, whether to comfort her or to snap her out of whatever dream she was having while awake, he wasn't sure, but he couldn't keep still as Robin seemed to be torn apart by her memories.

Before his arm could reach her, she turned once more towards the window, her eyes unseeing anything but her memories.

"I told him it wasn't his choice to make...but I was doing it too, wasn't I?" her voice became even softer. "I was choosing who deserved to live and who didn't. Except that my decision was solely based on whether I thought them to be a witch or not," she said, her brow furrowing to finally lend her face some outward sign of emotion.

"You didn't kill them," Amon said, finally reaching his hand out to hold her shoulder, prompting Robin to turn haunted eyes back to look at him.

'No...no, I didn't," she whispered, and her eyes seemed a little more focused now, a little more awake. "I just left them there to suffer."


End file.
